


Just A Taste

by Melusine11



Series: Reylo Monster Week 2018 [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Character without a name dies, Blood, F/M, Human Turned Vampire Ben, Smut, So Character Death if you're really counting, vampire rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 12:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: Rey is a Vampire, Ben is a human. He's been letting her feed from him for months, but after a lengthy break, Ben is desperate to see her again. Rey doesn't take much convincing, he's always been her favorite, not that she would ever tell him that.





	Just A Taste

“Dammit, Ben, stop following me!” she whirls, catching him off guard, it shouldn’t though, he hadn’t been stealthy at all, and even if he had, his all too human steps would have been far too obvious for her inhuman ears.

He steels himself and levels his gaze at her, “no.” He flinches when she pins him against the wall of the building they’re passing in front of, her hand wraps around his throat and he swallows. “I won’t stop.”

“You are weak,” she tells him bluntly before letting him go, people passing by are beginning to stare. “Go home, Ben. I have nothing for you.”

He jogs to catch up to her brisk pace. “You’re wrong.”

“In all my years of living, I swear I have never met such an insufferable soul. Do you ever listen?”

“Only when it suits me,” he says and Rey snorts in amusement. “Rey, please,” he begs, hand shooting out to grasp her wrist, forcing her to slow down. She turns and hisses at him, teeth flashing, but he doesn’t back down. “Please.”

“I told you, never again.”

“And you also said that the pull would fade, but it’s been weeks now, Rey, and,” he rolls his jaw, “it hasn’t yet. Do you still feel it? Tell me I’m not alone in this.” He watches her watch him as he continues to beg, and he wants to blame it on whatever she did to him the last time they spoke, but he knows he would willingly fall to his knees before her without it.

She curls her lip at him and he trembles now at the sight of her fangs. “You’re not alone,” she rushes the words and her eyes dart around the street. It’s still early enough in the night that people are still out, still observing the scene they’re making. Maybe they think he’s a jilted lover, or perhaps they think they’re witnessing a breakup, or the fall out of one, where he desperately begs for her to take her back.

Her grip on his wrist is bruising as she begins walking, and he trips along behind her trying to keep up.

“This is my house,” he says, like an idiot when they stop on the sidewalk in front of it. He turns to look at her and she doesn’t say anything, only lifts an all too unimpressed brow at him. “This is my house,” he repeats sounding more resolute and then makes the trip to his front door. He’s got it open quickly and steps inside, holding the door open for her, but she doesn’t follow.

“Wow, you’re really new at this, aren’t you?” she asks, from the other side of the threshold and she sounds amused, but still looks unimpressed. “Don’t you pay attention to the stories? You have to invite me in.”

“Oh! Right, do I need to say your name?”

“Fuck, I regret this already.” He watches her inhale, unnecessary, so he knows she’s really starting to get agitated with him.

“Rey, won’t you please come in?” He’s barely finished speaking the words before the door slams shut and she’s pressing him against it. “You, ah, really like pinning me to things.”

“I like you better when you don’t speak,” she tells him, leaning in and running her tongue along his jugular. “Like you better out of your clothes too,” she adds, and his hands scramble to rid himself of the items in question. 

He’s got his pants around his ankles, and jacket shrugged off onto the floor when her hands grip the collar of his shirt and yanks hard enough that buttons ping around the quiet space of the entryway. She’s gentle when she pushes it down over shoulders and arms. It settles on the floor with a quiet whisper next to his jacket. Her fingers walk down his chest, torturously slow before she wraps her hand around his cock. He had forgotten how cold she was, and he shivers against her.

“Before or after?” she asks, working her hand slowly over him.

“Why not both?” he moans, hips jerking towards her, making her smile.

She crowds back into his space, pressing up against him, trapping his dick, still encased in the coldness of her hand between their stomachs. “Do you really think you could handle both?”

He grunts in frustration, hands restless as he can’t settle on where he wants to touch her, or where he’s allowed to touch her.

“I can try,” he tells her, settling his hands on her waist, in a grip that might be bruising on anyone else. “Do it.”

“Just a small taste,” she says, pulling away and moving back into his living room. “Come, sit.” She gestures at the large couch and obediently he does as she says, and then watches, eagerly, as she strips.

She takes her damn time climbing into his lap, and he wants to grab her and pull her down to him, but he knows how she likes to play. So he waits, hands finding wrapping gently around her ankles as she clambers onto his thighs and tucks her legs beneath her. She leans into him, breasts brushing against his chest and his hands skip up to her thighs and then over her hips to her back, before pulling her closer, giving his dick some minor semblance of relief against her skin.

“Rey,” he breathes against her lips as she winds her arms behind his head, fingers carding through his hair.

“What is it?” she asks, eyes dancing in delight as she takes him in. He wonders if he looks as wrecked as he already feels. Instead of answering, he presses his mouth against hers, drawing a surprised noise from her throat before she leans into him, into the kiss. She ravishes his mouth and he lets her, moaning against her, hips thrusting weakly below as she snakes her tongue into his mouth. The grip on his hair grows firmer and he becomes putty in her embrace. He groans when her teeth drag against his tongue before her lips clamp down around it and she _sucks_ , moaning loudly against him. His hands move quickly, one grabbing her hip while the other palms his dick. She laughs around his tongue and lets him guide her to him before sinking down onto him.

When she releases him and pulls away his head falls back onto the couch and he pants hard before looking at her again. Her upper lip is blood red, and he watches in delight as her tongue darts out to swipe it away, moaning at the taste before she begins to move. 

The pace is nearly punishing and he feels like he can’t catch his breath, but he can’t look away from her. The way her cheeks slowly begin to flush with his minor donation of blood, the way her skin begins to warm beneath his palms. Her hair falls out of the three buns she had put it in, helped along by his touch, loving the way her hair falls in waves over her shoulders. She doesn’t speak, she never does, but he can’t ever seem to shut up. Maybe she likes that, he sees the way she smiles at some of the things that come out of his mouth while she fucks him.

“Yes,” he hisses when she begins palming at her breasts, “fuck you’re gorgeous.” She grins again and he grips her hips, bucking up into her hard, “Rey.”

“What is it?” She finally whispers, reaching out to rake her nails over his chest, not enough to break the skin, but red welts rise in their wake.

“Please,” he begs, moving a hand so he can apply pressure to her clit, running frantic circles over it with his thumb. “Please, please, oh fuck, Rey, please.” 

She tilts his head to the side and moans when she sinks her teeth deep into his throat. Her left-hand fists his hair in a tight grip as she comes on his cock and he muffles a shout into her shoulder as he finds his own release.

“Don’t stop,” he gasps when he can find his voice again. “Please don’t stop,” he says against her skin, feeling her suckling gently at the wound in his throat. He whines when she pulls away.

“What is it that you want, Ben Solo?” She asks, shifting on his lap, making him grunt when he slips from her still warming body.

“Please.” His hands hold fast to her waist, not letting her truly stray from his lap as he pulls away from her shoulder. “I want,” he begins, pausing to take in the horror that coats the lower half of her face. “The pull,” he tries again, “it means something, doesn’t it?”

She shrugs, running a finger up her throat to catch a trail of his blood, then sucking it into her mouth. Her eyes flutter shut and she wriggles in his lap. “Do you even understand what you’re asking for? Eternity is a very long time”

“I understand,” he tells her solemnly before smiling a bit, “besides, won't you be there with me?”

“You know this is the thrall talking, you’ll leave eventually. Everyone always does.”

“Rey.” He shifts hands coming up to grip her face, heels of his palms smearing blood from her chin to her cheeks. “You said you felt it, whatever this is.”

“I do, but I’ve also been alive long enough to know that what I said is the truth.”

“I won’t,” he tells her firmly, “maybe you’ll be the one to leave.” She smiles at this and he has the urge to kiss her, so he does. It’s a little weird, and more than a little wet, and he’s more than a little into it.

She pulls away from him and he chases her for more, but her hand presses against his shoulder. “You’re sure?” she asks, lowly, thumb tracing the fullness of his lower lip with a smile. It comes away a mess, and she sucks it into her mouth.

“I’m sure.”

“It’s going to suck.” He snorts and she rolls her eyes. “That was unintentional. It’s not a fun experience.”

“You’ll be with me though, right?” he asks, voice sounding small.

“Of course.”

“Then, yes.” The words barely escape his mouth before her teeth are in his throat again. With a bit of panic, he realizes she had been restraining herself before. What had been gentle pulls are nearly rough as she works to drain him. Her hands are gentle on his head when he makes a noise of distress, his fingers digging into her skin, body beginning to tremble. His vision begins to blur at the edges and his body, in an attempt to compensate for what’s happening, tells him he needs to breathe, so he starts taking deep, shuddering breaths, arms winding around her and pulling her closer in his panic.

“Shhh,” she soothes, pulling away from him. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” He blinks, trying to make out the real her from the several swimming in his vision. They all bite the same wrist and then hold it to his lips. “Drink,” she urges, holding onto his head and he does as she bids. It tastes horrible, but she’s making gentle, encouraging noises, and he wants to please her, so he keeps going until she tells him to stop. He must make some kind of noise because she’s talking again, but her voice sounds far away, and he feels so tired.

He thinks he’s only blinked, but when his eyes open, he’s staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, and he can’t remember getting there. “What?” he croaks, sitting up, pressing a hand to his head. “Rey?” he looks around for her but doesn’t see her. “Fuck,” he hisses, flopping back down onto the bed. 

It takes a few minutes of quiet stewing to notice the dust motes floating in the air, crystal clear, in the dark. He sits up again, more slowly, and focuses. _Rey._ He can hear her, she’s downstairs, in the dining room. His new body is fast. He means to walk, but he enters the room so quickly, a stack of magazines on the sideboard rustles in the wind he causes.

“Oh!” Rey says, looking up and smiling. “You’re up early, I thought I’d have a bit more time to get everything ready.”

“Is that for me?” he asks, stalking around the table, really concentrating on his steps now, to come up behind Rey.

“It is,” she hums, leaning back against him. “They say you should find your own food for your first meal, but it’s been days, and I want you. I can teach you more tomorrow.” He kisses her neck as he takes in the woman Rey has tied to a chair. “She’s willing, so don’t drain her.”

“Why is she tied up?” he asks, stepping from behind Rey to get a better look at his first meal.

“She likes it, plus it’s easier on you if they can’t squirm. You’re less likely to - oh.” Behind him, Rey sighs as he bites into the neck of the woman with relish. Her blood comes fast and thick and he groans at the taste. He tries to be gentle, he really does, but there’s just so much and it doesn’t stop until the woman falls limp against the chair.

“Oops.” he doesn’t sound sorry at all as he turns back to Rey.

“We’ll work on that,” she tells him with a smile, “and we’ll clean that up later, but for now,” she trails off and he grabs her, setting her on the table with a wicked grin. “Ben,” she gasps, “not here, it’s like she’s watching.” He grunts and kicks the legs of the chair, spinning it to face away from them as he attacks Rey’s mouth. “Fuck, I missed you,” she moans when he moves to bite at her neck, hands working to remove her clothes.

“How long?” he asks, hurrying to help her.

“Three days.” she kicks her leggings off and he doesn’t even wait for her shirt to come off before he thrusts into her. “Fuck.” A whisper, but it might as well be a yell for how sensitive his hearing is right now. “Watching you,” she tries, words failing her as he begins to roll his hips against hers, hitting her deep.

“Yeah?” he asks, finally helping her escape her shirt and bra, “you liked it, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she confesses, nodding and falling back to stretch across the table.

“So filthy,” he tells her, holding her tighter as he picks up the pace. “Touch your tits, my filthy girl,” he commands, and she complies immediately, his name falling from her lips. “Shit, Rey, look at you, how do you feel even better now?”

“Do you really want to discuss this right this second?” she asks, shifting to stare up at him while she pinches a nipple hard.

“Suppose not.” He brushes her hand away and replaces it with his mouth. She’s a talker, he realizes, as he bites down gently before soothing it with his tongue. Too quiet for his previously mortal ears, but now she’s a fount of words he was probably never meant to hear. “Say it again,” he rumbles, pulling away from her breast to stare intently at her. She blinks at him and he tilts her hips, changing the angle to make her scream. “Say it.”

“Fuck,” her hands grip the other side of the table, wrapping around the edge so tightly, he hears the wood groan in distress. “I love you.”

He stops abruptly and the table snaps beneath her hands. She sits up, looking furious, “Ben, I swear to-” he cuts her off with a kiss.

“I love you, too,” he tells her. “I just wanted you to be able to hear it since you’re so damn loud,” he teases, beginning to thrust again.

“Shut up, make me cum,” she growls, laying back down and finding a new handhold.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies earnestly, licking his thumb before finding her clit. She breaks more chunks off of the table when she comes, and Ben works her through it before pulling out of her.

“What are you doing?” she whines when he pulls her up.

“Not completely destroying my table.” he informs her before pushing her down over the couch, “now try to show the same restraint as you used to, every time before this.” He hears her laugh into the cushions and he slaps her ass before easing himself into her once more. “I mean it. I’m not replacing all of my furniture.”

“Just some of it?” she asks, wriggling against him. “Tomorrow night we’ll go to my place, and I’ll show you some real furniture.”


End file.
